


The Wasted Time (Between Your Lips and Mine)

by runicmagitek



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Late Night Conversations, Mutual Masturbation, Nightmares, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Post-Ending E (NieR: Automata), Starting Over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26345200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/pseuds/runicmagitek
Summary: They didn’t have to worry anymore; whatever piqued his interest was worthwhile and 2B was eager to follow. Not to keep him in check, but because she wanted to share it with him.And yet.Why.Why were her dreams anything but peaceful and welcoming?The horrors they endured are over, but they persist in 2B's dreams. While acclimating to a new life, she contemplates telling 9S of what she dreams of and how she wants nothing but for him to live. Preferably with her.
Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49
Collections: Press Start VI





	The Wasted Time (Between Your Lips and Mine)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SophieAyase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieAyase/gifts).



> This fic follows the events post Ending E, though just imagine the pods fixed _everyone_. So yeah. Nothing bad happened. They're all ok. Just sleeping it off. Yup.

YoRHa units didn’t dream. Dreams were a human thing, a strange phenomenon triggered by the brain upon reaching certain stages of sleep. The sleep function programmed within every YoRHa unit behaved like the personal computers humans owned, or so the records claimed. Something hazy, yet gentle. It ended as soon as it began.

2B missed those days.

* * *

The static was deafening—both within her body and upon leaving it. The memories she shared blurred, but she vaguely recalled the pain _he_ endured. All because of _her_.

If she displayed a fraction of the raw emotions he harbored, her model and any associated versions would’ve been decommissioned. Despite the horror he became, there was something sincere about it, something that warmed her heart.

Static yielded to darkness. Then there was blinding light.

2B blinked. She was alive. In a body. Her _own_.

She blinked again and deciphered the new coding in her being. She understood, yet didn’t.

Once her eyes adjusted, she stared.

Sunlight washed over his sleeping face and the wind played in his hair. He was there. They both were. Together again.

And he didn’t have to be hateful anymore. Neither of them did. They had a second chance, whatever that meant. To find a purpose, no doubt. Something _new_ to fight for and protect.

She gasped—what if he didn’t awake as she did? Or what if the virus wasn’t fully wiped from his OS? In her self-imposed heartache, she reached for him, cupped his face, and smoothed a thumb over the corner of his lips.

 _Wake up_ , she thought, ignoring the artificial tears that surfaced. _Please._

A coo left him. He stirred and 2B froze. When he blinked his eyes open, brilliant blue irises met her own.

“2B?”

She released a jagged breath and smiled. It was _him_.

The realization struck him a beat after, jolting him upright in a blind panic. “Are you alright?! What happened to—” He paused to consider their surroundings. His delicate brows furrowed. “Where are we? Did we—” A hitch in his breath rendered him speechless as he eyed her. “2B, what’s wrong?”

2B sat up, tears blinding her. The kind curve of her lips remained, though. “Nothing is wrong,” she said. “Everything will be alright.”

She wanted to believe that, because what else were they to believe after fighting for false gods and lies? For _years_ , she awaited the termination of her duty, of her covert model type. Anything to end the suffering she inflicted.

Maybe he remembered. Maybe he didn’t. 2B banished the thought; they could create new memories, now.

Together.

If only her system complied with those wishes.

* * *

Maybe it was a side effect of the logic virus. Maybe it was inherent code in her formulas, delayed until specific criteria were met. If the Bunker wasn’t an empty husk added to the sea of satellites outside the atmosphere, she might have returned for a proper scan.

One last possibility lingered in her mind like a pesky fly undeterred from swatting—maybe the pods miscalculated when rebuilding her and the others.

2B tried not to think about the matter. Easier said than done when the nightmares visited.

She mistook it as a corrupted memory file from an old debriefing. By the tenth night the horrors slipped into her sleep, she thought otherwise. Images of her past replayed, twisted by deep-seated fears—of failing her mission, of succumbing to the machines.

Of losing _him_. Over and over.

Not just by her hand, but by others. Strangers and fantastical entities deprived her of the one she was programmed to execute. But she didn’t have an assignment, anymore. None of them did. The lack of a directive didn’t ease the dread chewing her inside every time she jerked awake.

 _It_ _’s not real,_ she told herself. _He_ _’s still here. Nines is okay._

She refused to mention them to 9S—the nightmares. He lived through one himself. Why submit him to those horrors again? She could ask a rebuilt operations unit with enough software knowledge to examine her data, possibly erase the painful memories. She reconsidered, however. Removing a sliver of 9S, no matter how agonizing it was, felt like carving out a portion of… not her OS. That didn’t feel right—too clinical and meticulous.

What was that human expression? About having a soul? Maybe that’s what she experienced—a fracture in her soul.

She wanted it. The pain, the fear, the deaths. Everything. Mirroring those harrowing instances were fleeting pleasures which made her question the emotions she secured and buried. If a second was misplaced… would she not remember 9S the way she did now?

The question surfaced often. For every bit of joy they shared, from perusing the abandoned mall to helping Pascal rebuild his village to guiding the Bunker’s YoRHa units on Earth, she recalled their own journey. 9S’ findings for her—gifts, he insisted on calling them—triggered vicious clips to flash before her. A hundred moments crammed into seconds. She hissed in air and flinched every time.

“2B!” He abandoned whatever captured his attention and rushed to her. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine,” she always said, regaining balance and composure. But the cold edge from her YoRHa days vanished. In its wake was something gentler, almost fragile, as if she traded steel for glass.

Hesitation marked his gaze, but it was the bittersweet smile that eviscerated her. “Alright.”

The same smile haunted her throughout the endless cycle that was her existence and his demise. Did he know that? Or perhaps it’s lost, buried deep behind thousands of nested logic formulas, only to surface like a glint of light in an abyss. A reverie, of sorts.

And somehow, 2B accepted that. At least it wasn’t as visceral and cruel as what waited for her at night.

She curled up beside him in a forsaken apartment in the depths of the forest. It was 9S’ idea—to emulate human life to pass the time. He pretended to cook meals in the moldy kitchen and crafted shopping lists for their weekly mall visits. The augmented reality overlays in their system filled in the blanks occasionally, replicating items from everyday human life countless millennia ago. Nothing tangible, but the sentiment mattered more than material objects.

The bedroom, however, was the most furnished space. The bed frame still stood upright, moth-eaten sheets covered the mattress, nightstands flanked each side, and lamps with broken bulbs adorned each corner of the room. It was there they retired, much like their creators. 2B thought she read a report once about the meaning behind sharing a single bed, though disregarded it; no matter how valiant their attempts were, they weren’t human. Some details would forever elude them.

And yet something skipped within her each night she lay opposite of 9S.

They curled onto their sides, no different from how they found themselves upon rebooting from their revival. Instead of bathing in sunlight, the cool light found before a storm flooded their apartment. Several raindrops pitter-pattered along the broken window.

“2B?”

She brought her eyes to him. He still donned the shorts and t-shirt they found the other week. Vibrant graphics splashed across the white fabric—a contrast from their YoRHa-issued threads. Even 2B stripped of her battle attire in favor of ripped jeans and a loose tank top, albeit still black with white highlights. She had been hesitant upon trying it, but 9S’ enthusiasm reassured her. Now she wore it in hopes to see that radiant smile.

Only apprehension greeted her now.

“Hmm? What is it?”

He readjusted on his side, propping an arm under his head. “I wanted to ask you something. You see, I had a thought—” 9S averted his gaze briefly. “—and I wanted your input before I suggested anything stupid.”

Delicate brows knitted together. “I doubt it’s anything of the sort. What did you have in mind?”

“It’s just… well, all the other units? The ones from the Bunker? They’re exploring something for the first time. They love it, too; I can see it in their eyes when we act as guides. I… kind of miss that. Don’t you?”

Maybe it was better if she _didn_ _’t_ answer. “What are you suggesting?”

The light in his eyes dimmed. “I thought that perhaps… no, forget it.”

“9S.”

She reached for him, though barely brushed his forearm with the distance between them. Why humans insisted on such massive beds puzzled her. But the faint touch of her fingertips widened his eyes and parted his lips. Almost identical to the look he gave when she lectured him about emotions. Except this time the expression lingered.

“Please,” 2B murmured, “tell me.”

No answer surfaced. Not at first. “How, um… how long have we been here?” He gestured around and between them. “You know, doing all _this_?”

“It has been approximately forty-five days, eight hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty-two seconds since our first day of reenacting human life,” she recited before he finished. If he needed to ask, perhaps the pods failed to fully repair his basic commands. Her worry lifted as he chuckled.

“Yeah,” he said. “Right.”

“What is the matter?”

“I meant… along the lines of… you know—” His eyes pierced her. “—how long _we_ _’ve_ been doing this. Since the beginning.”

Oh. _That._

She didn’t _want_ to utter the results of _that_.

But if he asked, then he _knew,_ right? Were the memories still intact, unmarred? Or did he forget and relied on her to fill the voids living within him?

“Long enough,” she forced out.

Silence greeted her. His eyes flicked ever-so-slightly.

“Long enough to know this area inside and out, right?” was all he asked.

Tension eased away from 2B, yet she hesitated before asking, “What do you mean?”

“We’ve scouted this area until there’s nothing left to explore. Sure, the others are experiencing it for the first time, but… wouldn’t it be nice to go somewhere else? Find something else to explore? You know… together?”

She hadn’t thought of her future beyond YoRHa’s demise. But _he_ did. He thought outside their initial coding and primary directives. Why else would 2B have been assigned as his executioner?

It was that inquisitive curiosity that made her smile when he wasn’t looking, which brought tears when she ended another cycle, destroying the memories they shared yet again. They didn’t have to worry anymore; whatever piqued his interest was worthwhile and 2B was eager to follow. Not to keep him in check, but because she wanted to share it with him.

And yet.

Why.

Why were her dreams anything but peaceful and welcoming?

“2B?”

“Yes?”

9S’ lips fell to a flat line. “If you don’t like it, we don’t have to go anywhere. We can stay right here and….” His eyes wandered as he trailed off. The rain picked up and thunder rolled softly in the distance. “No, forget I ever mentioned—”

“I’d love to.”

Blue eyes snapped to hers. “W-what? You mean it?!”

“Of course.”

Shock gave way to relief, then joy. “Oh wow, I was almost certain you were joking.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I, uh… I’m not sure. Something to break the mood, I guess?”

“I see.”

“But that’s great, though! Not the joking bit, but that you’d want to tag along.”

“Did you have somewhere in mind?”

“Not _yet_. But I will now! Isn’t half of the fun picking a direction and going that way and seeing what happens?”

“Hmm… I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“I doubt there’s anything left to give us much trouble, either. Not that we _shouldn_ _’t_ prepare, but it’ll be more… leisurely? Less business, that’s for certain.”

2B hummed, nuzzling further into her pillow. She once scanned records of beaches. Not like the nearby shores, but pristine beaches lined with shells and gulls. Humans used to visit them. They lounge on the sand and played in the water. They sailed the oceans, unafraid of how the waters stretched past the horizons. To be carefree and disregard the consequences… she liked that idea. Maybe one day she could get used to it.

Maybe _he_ could help her.

“When would you want to start?” she asked.

“Preparations or leaving?”

“Both?”

9S quirked his lips while weighing the options. “We have everything we need here. It’s a matter of gathering it up and… well, saying good-bye to everyone, right?”

“Of course. It’s only fair that we bid them farewell.” Another pause, then, “Is tomorrow too soon?”

9S flinched at the proposition. 2B selected one of the thousands of programmed apologies, but his smile disarmed her.

“Geez, and I thought _I_ was anxious for a change of scenery,” he spoke through a chuckle.

“Is it too much?”

“No.” He reached for her, settling his hand over her extended one. “It’s perfect.”

He continued—about preparations for their journey and the sights he hoped to see—but 2B focused on the hand on hers. Synthetic skin met, no longer shielded by leather gloves. Something blipped in her mind, urging her to turn over said hand and curl fingers into his. But she didn’t wish to distract him or worse, have him pull back.

So she savored the warm weight along her knuckles and fingers as his voice melded with the rain. As she closed her eyes, her UI flickered out and her system slowed while initiating sleep mode. Nothing but the darkness and distant echo of rain.

It was there the nightmares welcomed her back.

* * *

Gunfire. Screams. Explosions. Tears.

Apathy. Then agony. Then guilt. Finally fear.

Swords clash. Blood slicks metal. Black cloth whirls in a dance of death.

Blue yields to red. Then back. Then both. Then neither.

Beside her. Elsewhere. Nowhere. Never.

In her hands, by her blade, forever burning in her retina.

It always cycles, simply a cog in a wheel she cannot dislodge from.

Countless times. Because of her.

Always her.

And him.

Destined for nothing else.

But this.

Always.

More screams—echoes of memories and her present horror.

The images never still. Vibrant, crisp colors assault her, no different from her executions, all a reminder of her purpose.

 _Their_ purpose.

He will always die and she will always—

* * *

A shriek disrupted the violent storm. Shadows loomed in the home she didn’t recognize. Scurrying upright, 2B hissed in air and flicked her wrist. The katana propped against the dresser swung to life, the metal chiming as it teleported to her. She didn’t hear her name being screamed—the torrential rain drowned it or perhaps her disillusion blurred her senses.

It wasn’t until tight arms enveloped her that she stilled her blade, inches from striking 9S.

Thunder cracked overhead, lightning flooding the interior. Rain pounded into the building, yet her inner mechanisms churned louder in her ears. With each gasp, she quivered. Tears caught in her eyelashes. Her hand fell limp and the katana clattered on the floor.

Then she heard it—her name on his lips, gentler than she ever deserved.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She thought she could’ve hidden it from him. She had control. She could handle it herself, just as she had with every mission. She didn’t want to involve him. She didn’t want to _worry_ him, didn’t want to—

A hand smoothed over her head. 2B froze, wide-eyed and gaping. He held her in bed as the rain trickled in through the broken window and the foundations of the building groaned.

More tears welled in her eyes. She failed to blink them back, failed to stifle the sharp sob gushing out. But she wanted to cling to him, bury her face in his neck, and forget everything but him.

So she did.

His hold tightened, cradling her head while stroking the length of her spine. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s just me. Nothing to be alarmed about.”

She gripped his t-shirt. She wept into his neck until his skin was slick with her tears. Not once did he stir or shift away.

“2B, what’s up?” he murmured. “You… you’ve never been like this.”

 _So he doesn_ _’t know?_ she kept to herself. _Perhaps it_ _’s better that way._ The silence suffocating her deemed otherwise.

“You screamed for me,” he continued. “I didn’t know what was going on, but… I’m here now. Whatever it is, it’s alright.” Another squeeze. “I promise.”

As her hysterics died, the familiar burn within her core remained—the delightful itch accompanying every kill. A simple line of code in every android’s makeup, to ensure they relished the atrocities they committed. She loathed it, especially when she broke free from her nightmares. Though as 9S anchored her and the anxiety dissipated, the arousal persisted.

And she didn’t know what to _do_ with that.

“Do you,” she began to ask, slowly and carefully, “ever dream?”

9S tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“When you close your eyes and rest. Is there anything there?”

Rain and thunder swelled before he answered. “Sometimes I relive past missions, like I’m uploading a debriefing. But… nothing remarkable.”

“Nothing of late?”

“No.” He tensed against her. “Why?”

How did that human expression go? Something about the bliss in one’s ignorance? But 2B knew him better; he found out. That oblivion never lasted.

Drawing a deep breath, 2B licked her lips and found her voice. “I keep… having these images visit me when I sleep. All different scenarios, yet depicting the same, awful act.”

“What’s that?”

She met his gaze—blue eyes, like frost cast over a clear sky. Thousands of thoughts screamed for her attention, yet every word died on her parted lips.

“2B?” 9S asked, smoothing hair out of her face. His thumb brushed her cheek and swept away the fresh tears cascading down her pale cheeks.

She liked that gesture. She liked it _a lot_.

“You were there,” she murmured. “In every one of my dreams.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Uh… were they nice dreams, at least?”

Tears blurred her vision. “I wish I could say they were.” Again he wiped away the tears. She gingerly clutched his wrist, hoping his hand would stay. And it did. “Every time I drifted to sleep, I had to experience your death by my hand. Again and again.” 2B closed her eyes. “I couldn’t control anything. It was like a training reel playing in my mind. It didn’t matter what changed, because the outcome was the same. I… I hate it. I don’t want to hurt you, let alone kill you. Never.”

He didn’t respond. How could she blame him after admitting _that_?

The gentle pressure meeting her forehead and the open palms cupping her face—nothing prepared her for the tenderness.

A tiny gasp fluttered past her lips. 2B snapped her eyes open. 9S leaned into her, his focus elsewhere while he held her.

“I wish I could do something to make those dreams stop,” he said, softer than his touch. “You don’t deserve to be tortured like that.”

She intended to laugh, but the sob she coughed up held no amusement. “Maybe I _should_ suffer.”

“Why?”

No answer surfaced, not in her mind or on her tongue.

“2B.” Damn it, the way he uttered her name made her shiver. “I don’t want to see you miserable. I want you to be happy.”

“You’re not disturbed by my nightmares?”

He shook his head, white hair tickling her face. “They’re just that—nightmares. Those can’t harm me. And I know you won’t, either.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

He cracked a smile, albeit small and short-lived. “You wouldn’t shed tears over it.”

“I—” She choked on another sob and 9S hugged her close. “I want them to stop haunting me. I don’t want to witness your… of _committing_ your….”

She trembled against 9S—his hands, his face, his body, everything—and clung to his wrists tight enough to warrant pain. He never jerked away or scolded her. Amidst the agony, a sliver of clarity rang true; the words came easily, then.

“I want to forget,” she told him. “Not that I want my software wiped, but… right now. Just now. I want to remember something else. Maybe that will numb it enough. I don’t _want_ to think about it. I want… anything but that.”

The storm lived in the building and she hoped he heard what she said. All the while, the flame within 2B roared. When had it spiraled out of control? She wasn’t even lost in combat and yet…

And yet.

“I don’t want to kill you,” she whispered, though swore it remained as a stray thought.

9S’ gaze widened ever-so-slightly and she held her breath.

She wanted anything but that. She wanted him alive and by her side.

She wanted _him_. 9S. No one else.

The sensation swelled in her core. The look on his face said—no, it _screamed_ —the feeling was mutual.

“Is that what you want?” 9S asked.

She was torn between laughing and screaming. Had he not paid attention? Or had he tuned out once her heart-wrenching words filled the space between them? Tensing her brows, 2B searched his face for an answer. She relaxed as swift as the rage overwhelmed her; the realization of what he asked settled into her core until the world blurred and only _he_ existed.

It was less of a question and more of an invitation. It had to be.

“I want….”

The soft words faded as his lips brushed over hers, both parted and gently gasping. A chill struck her from the featherlight touch. Closing her eyes and ignoring the rapid, synthetic pulse in her ears, she leaned in closer and pressed her lips into his.

A light gasped left her. Had he felt it, too? If so, why was a simple act igniting sentiments she only experienced in battle?

Her lips gently broke from his as she composed herself. Before she found the right words for her questions, 9S’ fingers curled into her face. Whatever she wished to say was lost to a hard kiss.

Another spark, another wildfire. The way his mouth moved over hers and his teeth grazed her lower lip and his tongue dipped in to meet her own… if burning meant indulging in his advances, then 2B hoped she turned to ash when they were through.

She snaked her arms around his neck. His fingers trailed from her cheeks to comb and grasp her hair. Gradually, they melted into each other: their chests, their hips, their tongues, their feet, their noses. A free hand settled on the small of her back and pressed firmly, as if to deepen their connection, as if their intertwined forms were not close enough. The idle motions he made—the swirl of his fingertips, the flick in his tongue, the subtle rock in his hips—brought forth delicate sounds; tiny mewls cracked from her lips between kisses, both pleased and yearning for more.

More _what_ , though? The notion burned her face. Not with embarrassment—whatever this was, she _wanted_ to delve further.

So long as he was there, of course.

She rolled onto her back, tugging 9S with her. He shifted, never breaking from her lips as he loomed above. A bite lingered in each kiss—a hunger neither could contain. Between gasps, she roamed her hands across his back, his sides, his hips. Even through the single layer of his clothing, he quivered against her fingertips. All the reason to do it again and again.

2B wasn’t alone in her teasing. He broke free from her lips to pepper kisses down her face and jaw. Upon reaching the crook of her neck, 2B tilted her head and cooed; she wished he wouldn’t stop.

Of course, he did. As much as she longed to scold him, she hitched her breath, curious as to what caught his interest.

And where it would lead.

His fingertips ghosted her sides. 2B shivered as he scaled up and down her form. He settled at the bottom of her tank top and everything stilled—9S, her breaths, even the raging storm. Only when he hooked his fingers under the fabric did the sensations return to 2B, flooding her with searing anticipation.

She squirmed beneath 9S as he peeled the shirt to reveal her pale stomach. His lips found a home beside her navel. His light breaths tickled her until she shuddered. She swore he smiled into her skin before traveling up her torso.

Unraveling the top from her body, 9S kissed the exposed skin. Soft, careful movements caressed every inch, sometimes with a flourish of his tongue, just to make her gasp. One hand gripped the misshapen excuse of a pillow cradling her head. As for her free hand, it moved on its own, smoothing over 9S’ hair. His blue eyes flicked up to meet her while she combed white hair. That stare brought another tremor, another coo upon her parted lips.

Past the rise and fall of her ribs, the fabric rolled further and bunched in 9S’ hands. His thumb brushed the curve of her breasts. 9S froze as he reached the peak of her chest and 2B bit her lower lip to suppress a wanton cry.

When his mouth sank into the bottom of her bare breast—a deep, luscious kiss—2B closed her eyes and delighted in the chills dancing between her thighs.

He kissed until every soft patch of skin felt his lips and tongue. He pushed her top up further, until her breasts fully spilled. 2B vaguely recalled records of what humans considered desirable. Had those details slipped into their coding somehow? Why else would coy excitement flood her?

Why else would a rich moan gush from her as he took a stiff nipple into his mouth?

2B arched into him. Nails dared to pierce his scalp. A single leg wrapped around his lithe body while he coaxed one nub with his tongue and the other between nimble fingers. Short breaths squeezed past her dry throat. Bursts of lightning illuminated the room as the storm rolled overhead. In those moments, she marveled at the image of 9S relishing her body, unable to reel back as he closed his mouth over her other breast.

Her lips curled and hips rocked into him. His body heat mimicked the fire living in her own. Would he… want her to reciprocate? Would he _like_ that?

“2B?”

She froze, as did he. Not entirely, though—a thumb teased her nipple while his fingers gently kneaded. But his eyes met hers, a hint of worry marking his expression.

“Are you alright?” he murmured between thunder cracks.

The urge to laugh swelled in her stomach, yet she swallowed it down. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s….” He broke eye contact briefly. She followed his sights—his hips nestled between her thighs. “You keep… moving.”

“Like this?”

She rocked into him, more pronounced than before. Light flooded the room to reveal the aroused expression mid-gasp. He buried his face into her neck. Short of breath, he licked his lips and brushed her skin.

“Yeah,” he moaned softly.

2B nuzzled her face along his temple and kissed him. “I like that.”

A pause, then, “Do you?”

“Yes. I like _you_ doing that.”

“What’s that?”

Withdrawing her hand from his head, she traced his spine until she reached his hips. 2B secured her grip there and rolled into him. This time, 9S mimicked her actions. The unison jolted through 2B. Her breath caught, melding into a gentle moan. He followed, not too far behind as the decadent sound vibrated upon his lips.

“I don’t know what this is,” he tried to say between moans.

A soft chuckle graced her smiling lips. “I find that hard to believe.”

9S lifted his head enough to catch her eyes. “I….” Now it was his turn to laugh, albeit nervous and airy. “Well, maybe it’s not that.” Their noses bumped and lips hovered over one another. “I’m not sure where to start. I… I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You’ve yet to do so.”

“And if I do?”

“Oh, Nines.” Releasing the pillow, she cupped his face and nuzzled deeper. “Whatever it is—whatever feels right—so long as you don’t stop, I’ll be happy.”

They closed the distance between their lips. Again they shifted, adjusting to one another while exploring their forms—searching for moments to steal to the other’s breath. Each skitter and gasp was kindle to their shared flame.

2B rather liked the circular patterns his fingertips drew into her skin and how his hard, yet tender kiss left her trembling, but whatever he did with his hips… that was what provoked her to claw beneath his shirt and bite his lower lip. She wasn’t made of porcelain. Neither was he. No sense in worrying if the other would break.

Though she certainly didn’t mind trying.

“Here,” she breathed onto his lips while loosening the buttons on her jeans.

She grabbed his wrist and guided that teasing hand away from her breast and down her torso and elsewhere—where she _needed_ him, or so her coding dictated. 9S repositioned himself, straddling a thigh while his fingertips brushed her abdomen, her hip bones, and finally—

Another gasp, though far sharper and abrupt than she anticipated. 2B winced and 9S froze.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

She would have laughed if her lungs didn’t require shallow breaths. “Only if you don’t do anything.”

“Um… are you sure—”

Tilting her hips, his fingers slid over her and a decadent chill enveloped 2B.

“Yes,” she whimpered, unable to restrain herself from rubbing into his hand. “Please. Don’t stop.”

The passing storm thrummed in time with her synthetic pulse. Before she pleaded again, his fingers moved.

Whatever logic she clung to snapped as she plummeted through that delicious, hazy lust.

The movement mirrored his recent fondling, yet desperate and enthusiastic. As if that night was their last, as if words ceased to convey what they felt for one another for countless lifetimes. What scorched 2B from the inside-out tasted like the bloodshed she executed, but those memories were but a mere candlelight. She was ablaze. All thanks to 9S.

And so was he. Through heavy lids, she watched him rubbing against her thigh. Despite their clothing blocking the way, he developed a rhythm that brought moan after moan to his gaping lips. She smirked and bent her leg ever-so-slightly to enhance whatever he bestowed upon himself. Tremors lived in his form, forcing him to cease pleasing her. And when he resumed, fervor fueled his actions—for both of them.

Parted lips brushed over one another, gulping air instead of consuming each other. Their forms arched with every decadent subtlety, from the insatiable coos to their fingers curling into hot, eager skin. 2B tossed her head as persistent fingers slicked over her. She clung to 9S as he bucked against her thigh and panted into her neck. Each passing second coaxed her further to an edge she didn’t know existed. It itched and swelled from her core, pleaded to break free.

Teetering along that edge, she licked her lips between gasps. The way he nestled into her while desperately working himself against her—his hair ruffled and forehead slicked with sweat and brows knitted and jaw set—brought a skip in her system. She experienced it before, almost every instance she ended his life. But they weren’t dying; they were _alive_. And she wanted that, for as long as they could.

Forever, perhaps. Whatever that meant. A lifetime? No, she yearned beyond a meaningless lapse in the universe.

She wanted forever and more. With him. And no one else.

Again that sensation wobbled. 2B hissed in a breath and squeaked out, “Nines.”

Another, long stroke from his finger and she was done. Delicious quakes pulsed from her core to her fingertips and toes. She arched and squirmed. She cried for him, daring to overpower the storm. The world blurred until all that mattered was 9S.

He quivered overhead as a constrained yelp shot past his mouth. His thrusts were distinct and rapid, identical to the attention he gave 2B. Tilting her hips to match the rhythm of his hand, she rode out the overwhelming bliss until it drifted elsewhere, until they slowed to stillness, until they eased into a tender embrace.

2B carefully swept hair out of his eyes while he perched his cheek upon her shoulder, breathless and beautiful. He peeked at her briefly. Lightning caught in his blue irises.

“Was that okay?” he asked as the thunder rolled.

Her lips quirked. “Give yourself some credit; it was more than okay.”

“Oh?”

She hummed and nestled closer to him.

“2B… what was it, then?”

She squeezed him tight before closing her eyes. “I don’t think words exist for how happy you make me.”

He didn’t pry any further, nor did she delight herself in toying with his hair. All that remained in the night was the rain, drifting by until it yielded to softness, then nothing.

* * *

“Oh, there you are!”

2B gazed at the horizon, past the urban structures nature reclaimed and into the unknown. It wasn’t until his voice broke the quiet, morning ambiance that she tilted her head.

9S braced him against the frame of the open window, hanging halfway out. He still donned his attire from the previous day, messy hair and all, but it was his kind smile that warmed 2B’s heart.

“You were looking for me?” she asked, drawing a knee to her chest as she stayed perched on the emergency ladder two floors down.

“Of course! For a second, I was starting to think you had left without me.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

His smile faltered briefly, but she noticed. “Kind of hard to think straight when I wake up and not have you there.”

2B tented her brows. It was far from the first time she escaped their bed before he woke up. Sometimes it was at midnight, dreading the notion of returning to sleep. Other times, she woke hours before him; she couldn’t lay there and do nothing. But the morning proved to be different. She _did_ linger beside him, careful not to rouse him. She marveled at the sunlight creeping over him and highlighting his gentle features.

Ghosting his jaw with her fingertips and pressing her lips between his eyes, 2B realized she woke as peacefully as he slept.

 _But I_ _’m seldom there,_ she thought to say at first. _Why is now any different?_

And then, _I_ was _there. Far longer than I ever have._

Finally, she settled with, “I wanted you to sleep. You looked so content. And we’ll need the energy if we’re leaving today. Besides—” She brought her head to center, released a sigh, and gazed at the endless horizon. “—I wanted one last moment of this view.”

The wind picked up and carried his gentle voice to her. “Yeah. It sure is something, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Mind if I… join you?”

“Not at all.”

The rusted iron groaned beneath 9S’ weight, yet 2B didn’t flinch during his careful descent. He sat beside her, legs dangling over the railing while she propped her chin on her knee.

“So,” he drew out after a moment, “did you sleep alright? Uh, after… you know….”

“I did, actually.” She cracked a smile while reminiscing about what happened, what they _shared_. “Thank you.”

From the corner of her eye, 9S stiffened and blushed. “For what?”

“I’m not sure, exactly. For comforting me? For distracting me?” She chewed her lower lip. “For making me feel… _anything_.”

He released a breath, shoulders slumping forward as he relaxed. “I’m really glad.”

She didn’t expect his hand covering hers on the railing, however.

2B blinked and turned to meet his stare. Dew glistened on the ivy and moss scaling the building. The rich, earthy aroma of fallen rain stained the warm air, thick enough to taste it. The sun shimmered against the droplets like a prism, daring to blind her, though it didn’t blur the radiant face smiling at her.

“Whatever you’re going through,” 9S continued, “please know I’ll be here, right, 2B? I might not always be able to distract you, like….” He fluttered his eyes while searching for the right words. “I mean, I’m not saying I don’t _want_ to do that, but—”

“Already curious for another round?” 2B purred. “Should we postpone our trip to make time for—”

“W-what?! No, that’s not… well, _sure_ , but also no. I mean, not _now_?! Uh…. Eventually? Maybe? _Please_?”

She wondered if he consciously batted his eyelashes or if he was always adorable when flustered.

“I’m only teasing,” 2B offered after a moment.

“Oh!” 9S released an exasperated breath alongside nervous laughter. “Right! That, uh… makes sense.” Then he squinted and smirked. “Feeling rebellious with all these not-so-prohibited emotions, ma’am?”

2B breathed out a chuckle. “Something like that.”

Once their fragile amusement died out, 9S cleared his throat. “What I was trying to say was…what happened last night, it might not always… _fix_ things? If that makes sense? Nothing short of rewriting your coding will solve the problem, though I won’t do anything unless _you_ want to.”

2B’s eyes drifted. “Even if I wanted that, there’s no readily available facility.”

“Yeah.” After a pause, he squeezed her hand. “But whatever happens, I want to support you any way I can. You don’t have to be alone, 2B.”

Her lips curled. She flexed her hand and tested the spaces between his fingers. A pleasant heat warmed her cheeks when he locked hands with her.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, Nines,” she murmured.

They sat there until the sun rose above the urban ruins. Birds soared through the skyscrapers with the occasional song. Dew rolled off flora and the morning fog below burned off to reveal more wildlife. 2B admired it while 9S drew mindless shapes along the back of her hand.

“We should get going,” she said.

“Mmm. Yeah.”

Neither moved from their spot.

“You all packed?” 9S asked.

“I think so. As packed as I can be.”

He chuckled. “Isn’t that the truth.” A breeze passed before he continued. “Where did you want to go first?”

“For… our travels?”

“No, I mean… who should we say goodbye to first?”

“Oh. I see. Pascal, perhaps?”

“The little ones will be devastated. They’ll never want us to leave. Or they’ll ask to tag along.”

“Precisely why it should be first.”

“That’s fair. Hey, if we come across trinkets in our travels, we can send them to Pascal. You know, like old books and stuff. He loves that.”

2B’s face tensed. “How will we accomplish that? There are no courier transports past the city limits.” She paused. “To my knowledge.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Her features relaxed. “We will.”

Despite longing to sit there until time lost meaning, 2B pulled away and rose to her feet. She balanced on the railing, the stilettos grafted into her heels clinking against metal while heading to the stairs. Two steps up, she paused and stretched, relishing the cool breeze on her skin.

She pivoted and looked to 9S. “Are you ready—”

He sat there, eyes wide and lips ajar. Like she was sublime. More divine than their creators.

“Nines?” she gently called out. “Is something the matter?”

“W-what?!” He shot upright and teetered. After regaining composure, he swung his legs back onto the staircase, though continued to grip the railing. “It’s nothing! I’m fine!”

She raised a brow and rested a loose fist on her cocked hip. “You don’t look fine.”

“It’s—” He sucked in a deep breath before exhaling a reply. “—you… _you_ look… amazing. Right now, that is. You always are, but… this exact moment is….”

2B blinked and glanced at her attire. Nothing unusual: a pair of ripped jean shorts and a faded graphic t-shirt. Well, the latter bothered her with how it dug into her torso and armpits. If they were traveling, she wanted to be comfortable. The top wasn’t on par with YoRHa’s exquisite, tailored uniforms; she had to improvise. Thus she tore the sleeves from the seams and cut the remaining shirt in half. Just like her jeans in the past.

Much better. Not perfect, but it worked. Though with how 9S stared at her while the wind caught in the severely cropped shirt and lifted the fabric enough to reveal the bottom of her breasts….

She bit back a smirk. Maybe she could cut up _all_ her shirts if it meant extra attention from him.

“Yes?” 2B asked, feigning coyness. “What is it?”

9S stared, speechless and frozen. His tender smile broke through and said enough, yet he still found his voice. “I don’t think words exist to describe you right now.”

2B averted her gaze, brushed windswept hair behind her ear, and smiled.

She never stopped smiling as they gathered what sparse belongings they cherished before exiting the building. She smiled throughout each goodbye to the many she now considered friends. She smiled as they skirted the edge of the city, where uncharted forests claimed the broken land.

“Alright,” 9S said as they came to a standstill. Peering over his shoulder, he looked to 2B and the city ruins. “You good?”

Sunlight danced in his icy eyes. She could have broken from that lovely gaze to regard the place—the _memories_ —they left behind one last time. Instead she stared at 9S, closed the distance between them, and locked her hands with his.

“I am,” she said, glad he never let go as they resumed their trek.


End file.
